


Isn't it Messed Up, How I'm Just Dying to be Him?

by Euterpe_XXXX



Category: Fall Out Boy, Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Bipolar Disorder, Eventual Smut, Falling In Love, First Time, Friendship, Gay, Homosexuality, Implied Relationships, M/M, References to Depression, Romance, Self-Esteem Issues, Social Anxiety
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-20
Updated: 2017-05-20
Packaged: 2018-11-02 18:22:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10950150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Euterpe_XXXX/pseuds/Euterpe_XXXX
Summary: Patrick and Pete have rebuilt their bridges after the hiatus and their friendship is stronger than ever. Time away from the band allowed them to follow a path of self-discovery. Not all of it was positive but in the end they came out of it stronger and more determined.Pete is now divorced and Patrick has accepted that he is gay. He was never really confident with women so when it comes to men he is embarrassed to find out that he is completely clueless. He turns to the one person who has always given him an honest answer for help with his love life. But things are not always what they seem.





	Isn't it Messed Up, How I'm Just Dying to be Him?

It's 2 AM and Patrick can't sleep. He's replaying last nights show over and over in his head. He was on such a high when he left the stage but now his over-critical, self depreciating brain is currently in overdrive and he cursing every little imperfection. He’s currently staring out of the window of the bus but the scenery is blank. The light on inside of the bus means that all he can see is darkness and his mirrored reflection in the glass. The quite hum of the road is hypnotically soothing and he’s trying so hard to push his demons to the back of his mind and concentrate on the gentle rumble of the wheels.

It’s now day 6 of their UK leg of the tour. The reaction from the fans has been spectacular as always. After all these years Patrick still has to tell himself that all of this is real. He has never been able to understand how an awkward, shy kid from Glenview, Illinois, gets to travel the world, stand on stage and play music that he helped to create. And not only does he get paid for the pleasure but people scream his name and sing their songs back to him. It never stops feeling surreal. 

The bus is currently on route to Manchester but Patrick has no idea where they are right now. He can hear muffled sounds from the bunks but he presumes that Joe is just talking in his sleep again. 

A moment later he is shocked back to his senses by the sight of a second face reflected in the glass.  
“Shit, Pete! You shouldn't sneak up on people like that. Fuck!” Patrick gasps. His heart is pounding out of his chest and he can feel the scarlet red wash across his face.  
“You couldn't sleep either, huh?” Pete asked, trying to hide his smirk from an already flustered Patrick as he ruffles his own hair.  
“Fuck! How could anyone sleep when you're creeping around like some sort of fucking Grim Reaper? It’s enough to give me nightmares.”  
“Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you, Man. I didn't even realise you were up. I couldn't sleep. I was just gonna watch some TV. You wanna sit with me?” Pete replied, head down, looking at Patrick through the top of his eyelashes like a scolded schoolboy.

Patrick could see that Pete looked tired. Not the overworked kind of tired. The kind of tired that makes the sparkle in his eyes fizzle out and that million watts smile seem dimmer.

Pete walked over to the sofa and fell into the cushions with a bounce.  
“Hey, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to snap at you….ar..are you OK, Pete? Patrick asks, suddenly feeling like an ass for being so jumpy.  
“Hey, Man, you know me. I couldn’t find the off switch for my brain, so I though I’d try a little distraction therapy. I was planning on some Game of Thrones but you've kinda always been my favourite distraction, Trickster.” He says with a wink.  
The scarlet now turns to dark crimson as a shy grin pulls at the corners of Patricks mouth.  
“Shut the fuck up.” Patrick can't hide the laughter in his voice. But he knows that Pete is hiding something. He’s been distantly quiet for days and anyone who knows Pete Wentz knows that he is usually the loudest presence in the room without him even having to speak. A tactile ball of energy. Looking at him now, Patrick can see that Pete is staring at the screen, but whatever picture is playing in his head is definitely not Khal and his Khaleesi. 

Patrick sits down on the sofa and Pete instantly leans into him as if Patrick is his centre of gravity. He huffs out a laugh as Pete wraps his arms around his waist and holds on tight. Patrick doesn’t say a word. Just sits back and pretends to watch the screen in front the of them. The silence is comfortable and before long Patrick can hear shallow breaths and he knows Pete is sleeping. He doesn't have the heart to wake him. So he turns off the TV, pulls Pete tight against his body for warmth and closes his eyes hoping to follow in his path.

A few hours later, the sun shining through the bus window wakes a stiff and grumpy Patrick. He stretches out his arms, rubs the poor nights sleep from his eyes and blinks the world into focus. He soon realises that Pete is no longer beside him so glances around the bus. Pete is sat in the kitchenette with a mug of coffee in front of his face, staring right through Patrick and into beyond.  
“Morning, Pete. You get much sleep? You still look pretty tired.” ...No response. “Pete?” He says a little louder.  
“Hmm?” Pete responds, shaken out of his daze.  
“Sleep? Pete? Did you… Oh, never mind. Is there anymore coffee over there?”  
“Er, sure, I’ll get you some.” Pete replies in a quiet voice. “You want cream and sugar.”  
“Pete, you've known me for over 10 years. I drink my coffee straight up. You know that.” Patrick replies with a confused face.  
“Oh, yeah. Sorry Trick, here ya go.” Pete hands him the cup with a forced smile.  
Patrick takes one sip and spits it back out. “It's freezing cold, Man!”  
“What? But I only just made the pot.” He replies, still looking a little dazed and even more confused than Patrick.  
“How long have you been sitting there?”  
“I don't know, longer than I realised I guess.” Pete walks back towards the bunks without saying another word.  
Patrick shakes his head and groans as he stands up and walks over to the coffee pot to make a fresh brew. 

Pete seems pretty out of it and Patrick just assumes that he didn't get much sleep yet again. It’s nothing new. Pete has suffered with insomnia for like, forever. But this is the worst Patrick has seen him in a long while. He can't deny that he's beginning to worry about his best friend and he knows they need to talk.

They have a show tonight and several interviews to do before sound check. Patrick knows that Pete is a master at putting on his game face but the mask is tiring to wear and he can see that his friend is already exhausted. Patrick needs a plan to get Pete alone.

Joe comes stumbling out of the bunks 5 minutes later looking like he’s just emerged from the Pro Magnum era. His hair is a mess of curls, he has a 5 day beard and he's wearing just his t-shirt and boxers.  
“Hey, Patty Boy.” He grunts.  
“Hey, Dick-Face, don't call me that.”  
“Oh, Sorry Ma’am.” Joe replies with a sarcastic bow, then proceeds to take Patrick's coffee and shuffle back towards his bunk.  
Patrick throws his arms up in defeat. Today is going to be a good day, He can tell.

“Morning, Patrick. What wrong with you?” Comes a small voice from the doorway.  
“Oh, hey, Andy. Er, nothing really. The Human Scarecrow just stole my coffee, that’s all.” He replies with a huff and a smile. “You been out all night or were you up super early?”  
“I went for a run. You and Wentz were fast asleep so I tip-toed out of the door about 5 AM.”  
Patrick's face instantly flushes all shades of red again and he curses his albino-like genetics for making him so obviously embarrassed.  
“Erm, yeah. We…er…we were watching TV and fell asleep.”  
Andy just smiles in return and pats Patrick on the shoulder as he heads towards the shower.

Patrick is startled out of his moments daze by the sound of his phone. He scrambles over to the table to grab it. It's a message from Brendon.

**_Brendon: Yo, Tricky Dicky. I'll be in London in 2 days. Wanna meet for dinner? I’ll let you pay as long as you know I don't put out on a first date ;) xxx_ **

If Patrick thought his face face was red before, he could practically toast marshmallows with his cheeks by now. He had know Brendon a for many years. He was handsome, confident and talented, but he was a raving flirt. The last time he had seen him was a few weeks ago at a friends birthday party, Brendon's flirtometer was off the chart. He’d even grabbed Patrick's ass at one point to “check for tire pressure as a safety precaution before your travels”, as Brendon had described it. Patrick had almost jumped through the roof. Brendon had, of course, thought it was hilarious to watch Patrick turn all shades of the red colour spectrum. 

Patrick looks up just as Pete walks back into the lounge, perfectly dressed in skinny jeans and an Iron Maiden shirt, looking like he just walked out of a hair salon. Immediately followed by Joe and Andy who are also fully dressed. Patrick soon realises he isn’t even washed and changed. He’s going to be late.

Joe and Andy are discussing the politics of personal hygiene in a confined space and walk right on by without a glance.

“What are you grinning at?” Pete asks looking a little more focussed and awake.  
“I think Brendon Urie just asked me out on a date.” Patrick says quietly, unable to remove the huge grin from his face.  
Pete's face turns sullen “That’s nice. You deserve a great guy like Brendon. You should go for it.” A tight-lipped smile ghosts his face and he follows Joe and Andy off the bus.

Patrick's heart sinks a little but he's not sure why he suddenly feels so disappointed. Maybe he's just nervous about going on a date. He takes a deep breath and types out a reply.

**_Patrick: Hey, Brendon. That sounds like fun. But I'm shocked you would think I would be anything less than a gentleman ;) Let me know where you are staying and I'll pick you up xoxo_ **

Patrick takes a final deep breath and hits send whilst biting his bottom lip. 

**_Brendon: I’m staying at The Rosewood. Room 216. 7pm on Friday. I expect flowers and chocolates xxx_ **

Patrick can't stop smiling whilst he's tripping over his jeans and putting his shirt on inside out trying to get ready in a rush. The day suddenly just got better.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first attempt at a fic so please be patient. I will try to update as often as possible :)


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